


SetJer Week 2020

by clokcwork_dragon



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: ( but they dont know it yet), First Meetings, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Secret Crush, SetJer Week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:29:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25508248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clokcwork_dragon/pseuds/clokcwork_dragon
Summary: A series of drabbles written for SetJer week 2020 on twitter, hosted by me. Each chapter follows the daily prompt and revolves around Seteth & Jeralt as a ship in various stages of/before their relationship. More details inside!PROMPTS:Day 1: first meeting // crushesDay 2: family // lossDay 3: transformation // touchDay 4: flowers // kissDay 5: earth // deityDay 6: happiness // hand-holdingDay 7: AU // free day
Relationships: Jeralt Reus Eisner/Seteth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	1. Day 1- first meeting // crush

**Author's Note:**

> So I figured the best way to spread around word for the Rarepair EventTM i started, would be to participate in it too! I combined both of today's prompts for this drabble, but you don't have to do the same if you participate. Hope y'all like this!

Seteth watches the knight march in, his daughter in tow, and suspicion flares up inside of him like a poisonous flower. The man’s face is scarred (but not unhandsome, Seteth has to begrudgingly admit), his clothes muddy and tattered; yet the sword he carries is well-tended to, blade gleaming and razor-sharp under the chandeliers’ light.

“So,” the man turns to the Archbishop “you want me to join the Knights as their captain. _Again_.”

Seteth has half a mind to chastise him for his admittedly rude, shameless tone- but Rhea only nods, a gentle smile playing on her lips.

“Indeed, I was hoping you’d grace our newest recruits with your talent and wisdom.”

She stops, and Seteth thinks it to be the end of the conversation- but when Rhea opens her mouth again, his own jaw almost drops to the floor.

“Seteth will show you around and lead you to your quarters. Your daughter can familiarise herself with the students she’ll be taking under her wing.”

The green-haired man has half a mind to protest- he can’t possibly play tour guide with this shady character and neglect his duties, and Flayn. But part of him knows Rhea isn’t going to have any of it, so instead he just nods briskly, hoping the disappointment is clear as daylight across his features.

“Follow me.”

* * *

For the next couple of months, everything seems to be rolling smoothly. Jeralt seems to believe Seteth is his own personal guide to the monastery, however, which is… inconveniencing, to say the least. The knight often asks questions about the schedule, or about missions, or really about anything and everything. Sometimes, he asks the same thing twice, or even thrice; Seteth bites his tongue and doesn’t suggest the man writes the answers down, but his cold stares are enough to convey his annoyance.

But Jeralt is either so dense that he doesn’t catch the cue, or he plainly doesn’t mind.

As the weeks pass, however, Seteth comes to not _despise_ the other man’s company. Sure, Jeralt talks a lot and drinks even more and asks way too many questions, but… he’s not bad. Certainly he’s got interesting stories to tell, and Seteth finds himself appreciating his intellect when Jeralt helps him during planning ahead for the month, and the likes.

The two eventually become friends, and come to spend their free time together. Annoyance shifts into tolerance, which eventually melts into companionship. It’s not too bad, but Seteth finds himself wishing he could talk more openly to Jeralt. Some truths burden him so, and there’s no one but Flayn to share them with. Of course, Jeralt can’t know the truth about him; but that doesn’t stop Seteth from seeking his company, spending time with him and even drinking with him once or twice. He wonders what that feeling of warmth is; freedom, perhaps. Or an illusion of safety. Either way, he is determined to enjoy it.

One night, when he and Flayn are taking their tea in private, the girl makes a joke about him batting his eyelashes at the knight. It’s only a childish humorous remark, really, and she doesn’t mean it. But Seteth almost lets his cup fall from his hand, as realisation hits him.

_He’s got a crush on Jeralt._

That might explain why the knight almost never leaves his thoughts. Why he likes it so when their hands accidentally touch while they’re working together. Why even the dumbest thing that comes out of Jeralt’s mouth, makes Seteth dissolve into actual, honest laughter. Why he doesn’t pretend.

Flayn doesn’t, or pretends not to notice her father’s brief shock. Instead she changes the subject and babbles on about some strange fish in the pond. Seteth nods along, his mind not really following the conversation.

Instead, he thinks of Jeralt (again). No, the other man can’t possibly reciprocate those foolish feelings. And Seteth himself shouldn’t be having them either- his wife, his mate, his one love, has died so long ago. Now his life revolves around Flayn, and the monastery, and his daily duties. There’s no time for affairs or lovesickness, certainly not without him endangering both himself and his daughter. He can’t possibly have a relationship with anyone, without his partner noticing some… unusual things about him. And that would be the end- the secret would be out, the enemy would find them, and Flayn’s life would be in danger.

No, he cannot allow that. Jeralt must never know how Seteth feels about him, they must never cross the line of friendship into something more. Love is a thing of the past that he doesn’t have the privilege to enjoy anymore- it’ll only serves to distract him and doom him and his remaining family. Besides… no, he cannot abandon his wife’s memory so easily. He’s loved her, and only her. Any possibility for anything else, died along with her, so many years ago.

Yet as his mind races, Seteth wonders.

Is it truly so abhorrent a notion, wanting to love, and to be loved?


	2. Day 2- family // loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prompts for today were family & loss, and again I somehow managed to combine and use both in one drabble. Though tomorrow I'll try to use only one of the prompts haha XD
> 
> Enjoy today's entry, and feel free to participate in the event whenever!

Jeralt regarded his daughter as his only family, after Sitri’s untimely and heartbreaking death. He’d devoted himself to Byleth, his entire being seemingly revolving around her even if he refused to admit it. He’d taught her to waddle over, then to walk; her first weapon had been a wooden sword carved by him; he taught her to hunt, and to fight, and to mark the stars in the sky so she could find her way home no matter where she might find herself. For twenty years, as they wandered across Fodlan in search of job and gold, they had been each other’s family, needing nobody else.

That was, until Jeralt met Seteth, in Garreg Mach. Until Seteth unintentionally dug his way into Jeralt’s heart, until Seteth kissed him hesitantly in the Goddess Tower.

Suddenly, the walls he’d built throughout these years collapsed. He found himself reciprocating, loving the other man so fiercely it was almost painful. The moment their lips met, Jeralt knew there was no going back for either of them; that was it, the beginning of _something_ , that would likely only bring trouble for everyone. And yet, what did it matter? All that was of importance, was that it felt so _right._

And so now Jeralt had a new family. He had someone to love in a way he hadn’t dared love in twenty years- and with that came a second daughter, as Flayn had come to view him as her second father fairly soon after she realised what was going on between him and her actual dad. Byleth seemed delighted to have a younger sister to dote upon (and tease), while she didn’t mind being able to rely on two adults that had her back and were ready to assist her with her students. And Seteth… well, Jeralt just couldn’t get enough of him.

“Is something the matter?”

Jeralt blinked, sitting up straight in his chair and realising he’d been staring at Seteth for Goddess knows how long. Seteth just looked mildly confused, which in Jeralt’s mind was absolutely adorable. A small smirk tugged at the knight’s lips.

“Well, I just can’t stop looking at you.” He winked. “You’re gorgeous.”

Seteth’s confusion turned into a flustered expression, his face turning a lovely shade of red as he looked away, fiddling with his teacup.

“You’re exaggerating.” He murmured, reaching across his desk to hold Jeralt’s hand. The latter laughed, and used the momentum to pull Seteth close over the desk. The action earned a startled gasp from the green-haired man, and the sound of porcelain shattering filled the room as he let the cup drop to the floor. Jeralt didn’t pay any attention to it, however- he just kissed Seteth, deeply and passionately until they were both in need of oxygen.

“That… was unexpected.” Seteth panted, trying to regain his breathing. He looked at the floor, frowning. “We should clean that up.”

“Leave it to me. ‘S my fault it broke after all.” Jeralt offered him a charming smile, walking around the desk and pulling Seteth into a hug. “Later, though. For now… I’d like you all to myself.”

Seteth just shook his head, as if dealing with a capricious child. But there was fondness dripping from his voice like honey when he spoke, “What am I to do with you?”

“Just promise not to leave me?” Jeralt murmured, his voice turning serious for once. Seteth immediately understood where his worries were coming from; he felt the same, after all. They’d both lost their previous lovers, and it only made sense the experience would imprint on them a lasting fear of loss and loneliness.

“Oh, Jeralt.” Seteth whispered, his hand coming up to cup the knight’s unshaved cheek. The saint allowed himself a smile, his thumb gently caressing his lover’s cheekbone.

“I could never, ever leave you. You’re… You’re my family now, after all.”


	3. Day 3- transformation // touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today's entry is a little shorter because I'm on holiday and spend a lot of my time just relaxing, or walking out and about. Huge apologies! I hope tomorrow's will be longer ^^; in any case, today's prompt was transformation // touch, and I emphasised on the latter. It's short, but I hope it's sweet. Enjoy, and feel free to participate in the event any time!

“I still can’t believe this.”

Jeralt lay on his side, Seteth nestled comfortably between his arms. The windows were open, and both men lay shirtless in response to the day’s oppressive heat. Of course, Jeralt had used this as an excuse to get his hands all over his partner’s exposed back and chest, and now he was gently prodding the small, dark green spikes that poked out of his skin across his spine.

Seteth purred softly, evidently enjoying the affections. “You have to be more specific, I believe. What part do you nod believe, my dear?”

“Well,” Jeralt laughed “For starters, the fact that I’m laying side by side, and kissing, an actual, living, breathing dragon. That’s a lot to take in.”

He leaned in, his lips pressing a chaste kiss on Seteth’s neck.

“Then there’s a fact that I’m in love with Saint Cichol himself.” He murmured against the latter’s skin, and Seteth shivered slightly under Jeralt’s hands.

“Pray do not let that slip in front of anyone, Jeralt…” He sounded almost terrified of the prospect. “If anyone comes to know, Flayn will be in great danger-“

“And so will you.” Jeralt pointed out, his fingers tracing the scales that grew across his lover’s shoulders and upper arms. Seteth turned his head to look at the knight.

“I suppose, yes. But… that hardly matters when my daughter’s life will be on the line.”

“Seteth.”

Jeralt’s tone put a stop to anything else the saint was about to say. Instead, his pointed ears twitched a little, worriedly. Jeralt cupped his face with his sword-calloused hand.

“I know you fear about Flayn more than anything. But… I fear about you too, you know.”

“About me?” Seteth blinked in plain confusion, and Jeralt had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

“Yes, genius. I don’t want anything to happen to you. If anyone harmed you, I…” the knight cleared his throat. “I just don’t want you to endanger yourself. Either willingly or involuntarily.”

Seteth fell silent for a few moments, considering Jeralt’s words. Eventually, he let out a small sigh.

“I… I’ll try my best to keep myself safe, then.” He smiled a little, sitting up to kiss his lover gently. “But, promise to do the same. I don’t want to lose anyone else; I… I worry about you, just as much as I worry about Flayn.”

Jeralt had to admit he hadn’t expected that; he hardly thought Seteth would ever worry about him the same amount he fretted over his daughter’s well-being. Which was only natural, of course. But to hear Seteth disprove this so openly… it warmed him to the core, in a way he hadn’t felt in too many years to count.

He pulled Seteth close abruptly, hugging him so tight he could feel the other man’s pulse thump against his own chest.

“Fear not, _Cichol._ You will not be rid of me so easily, that I can promise you.”


	4. Day 4- flowers // kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 is short again, but I'm actually kind of proud of the concept and I plan on writing a longer piece about it in the future. Prompt was flowers // kiss, and the first one gave me the perfect opportunity to shove in a couple of my headcanons about Seteth!

“Can you truly make flowers bloom out of nowhere?”

“No, not out of nowhere. At least, not easily.” Seteth smiled, and one of his hands reached up to stroke Jeralt’s jaw as his own head lay on the knight’s knees. Jeralt leaned up comfortably against the tree bark behind him.

“You’re so full of surprises, my dear Earth Dragon.” He admitted. “You truly are a deity of nature?”

“I…” Seteth gazed thoughtfully across the sky. “People in Ancient Fodlan used to worship me as such, yes. But I must confess… I’d rather live as a human.”

He looked at Jeralt again.

“Do you believe me, dearest? I do not wish to be worshipped as a god. Only… Only to be loved for who I am.”

Jeralt sighed, placing his hand on Seteth’s forehead and playing with his verdant locks.

“Sweetheart, don’t you worry your pretty head with such questions. I love you for _you._ ” The knight felt his cheeks heating up just a little bit, thinking of the next words that wanted to get out of his mouth. “I fell in love with _Seteth_. Not Cichol, and not any dragon deity.”

Seteth’s own face turned red, and he sat up, leaning against Jeralt’s sturdy body. “Truly… you mean that? And you don’t love me less, now that you know?”

“My love will never change, you lettuce-haired fool.” Jeralt kissed his companion’s temple, lips momentarily brushing against the golden circlet the latter wore. “I adore all of you. All that you are.”

Seteth couldn’t restrain a small chuckle at the characterisation, and nestled comfortably in Jeralt’s arms. His hand picked up a bit of soil from the ground, and he held his palm open close to the other man’s face; his eyes shone with magic, and a similar glow emanated from his hand. A moment later, a small red carnation sprouted out of the soil he was holding, bashfully opening its flowers under Jeralt’s eyes.

“Then I’m prepared to love you, with all that I am. And to give you all I can, Jeralt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (As a complementary note, red carnation symbolises undying love according to google.)


	5. Day 5- earth // deity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I might as well finish these prompts even though the week is long past and it also flopped XD oh well! I still don't wanna leave these lying unfinished.

Jeralt knows what his lover is. He knows he bears the power of a god- no, _is_ a god, worshipped across the land as the Deity of the Earth. In Duscur, people worship him a draconic entity suspiciously similar to him, which they call the Life Dragon. Really, dragons seem to play a most decisive part in faith all across the known world.

And yet nothing has prepared Jeralt for the creature that is now standing in front of him. A _real goddess-damned dragon_ , and a massive one at that. With its six feathery wings spread out around him, its deer-like horns crowning its head and the glow of its Crest Stone pulsing gently where the stone itself is wedged on its breastbone. Vines hanging from its horns and shoulders sway gently in an invisible breeze, and crystals in all the known colours of the rainbow shimmer across its ancient body.

Saint Cichol in all his glory looks down at the human in front of him, and yet Jeralt feels not the tiniest bit threatened. A small smirk plays on his lips, as he lifts one sword-calloused hand up in the direction of the entity towering before him.

The dragon lowers his massive head until the tip of his beak brushes against Jeralt’s outstretched fingers. A low, guttural sound emanates from deep inside him… almost like a purr. At that, Jeralt lets out a quiet laugh.

“Welcome home, Seteth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lowkey imagine Seteth's dragon form being a liiiittle bit like the Kalameet from Dark Souls.


	6. Day 6- happiness // hand-holding

_You hold my hand, and I lose my mind._

Seteth can only stare at Jeralt as the latter touches his cheek with the tips of his fingers, brushing aside a stray lock of emerald hair. The saint wishes the moment will last forever- oh, if only time could freeze, and he could stay there, with Jeralt so delightfully close to him. Part of his mind wonders; what will happen if he takes the leap? What will happen if he crosses the bare centimetres between them and kisses Jeralt?

Jeralt’s free hand slips inside Seteth’s at that exact moment, as if on cue. The warmth that courses through him makes his heart thrum against his chest, in an almost human-like manner.

_You hold my hand, and my life is yours._

Human- _like,_ but not entirely human.

That thought sobers him up, just at the last moment before the boundary between them is crossed. Seteth blinks and steps back; Jeralt’s hand falls from his face, and he inwardly chastises himself for immediately missing its warmth.

No, he cannot give in. Jeralt is human. He… He is something else, and his duty lies elsewhere. He cannot possibly drag the knight down with him.

Seteth forces a smile onto his face, hoping that Jeralt will not see the pain reflecting behind his eyes.

“I’m glad you’ve returned safely from your mission, Jeralt.”

And their hands are still joint together, even as their hearts attempt to drift apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all about the YEARNING


	7. Day 7- AU // free day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This started as a HTTYD AU and then I kinda dragged it out from there. If anyone of you guys has watched the first HTTYD movie then you might be able to picture the scene in your mind!

Jeralt closes one eye, calculating the distance between himself and his target. As the dragon passes low above him, roaring and spitting flames, he lets the arrow fry.

It hits the creature on the wing, and it lets out a horrifying screech of anger laced with pain. Jeralt half-expects it to veer right around and attack him; but no, instead, the dragon changes course. Sluggishly, its injured wing moving stiffly and with effort, it makes towards the forest at the base of the mountain.

Jeralt tracks the dragon down for three days.

He knows it is injured, and that it can’t have went far. The path of shattered trees and upturned earth leads him to the possible landing site. If he can finish off the dragon, the village will be fed for days from its corpse. Besides, it’ll save their fishing boats from being attacked.

The massive dark green shadow at the foot of the rock formation moves when he enters it vicinity. It lifts its horned head just a little, and growls. It’s a warning, and Jeralt realises the creature is big enough to make a bloody mess of him, injured or not. He stands a good safe distance away and raises his bow: if he can shoot its eyes first…

And then he catches something hovering at the edge of his vision; he turns, hand instinctively flying to the dagger strapped to his hip. But…

…but it’s only a young girl, dressed in shabby village clothes.

“Don’t!” She cries, and to Jeralt’s astonishment runs up to the dragon and hugs its head. The dragon rumbles in protest, trying to push her away with what Jeralt realises is urgency and concern. Almost as if it's telling the girl to go, to hide for her own safety.

“No!” The girl just shakes her head, tangled emerald curls flying about. “I will not leave you, father!”

_….father?!_

The dragon lets out a small whine, and a soft light begins to emanate from its body. Slowly, the light intensifies until Jeralt has to shut his eyes for a few moments, waiting for the painful glow to fade. When he opens them again, the dragon is gone. All he can see is a man, lying on the ground and clutching at a bloody arrow wound at his chest. The girl kneels beside him, fretting about him and pleading him to stay strong, that she’ll get help. Jeralt blinks, realising belatedly that the man and the dragon are, in fact, one and the same.

Well… _fuck_.

**Author's Note:**

> Find the event's prompts and everything on twitter as @setjerweek2020. Find my fe3h/personal acc on twitter as @flaythleann. I hope you guys enjoyed this, and feel free to participate! You don't have to do all the prompts, nor all the days! Just have fun <3


End file.
